


thés fleuris

by CampionSayn



Series: Goretober 2020 [15]
Category: Gargoyles (Cartoon)
Genre: Flash Fic, Hanahaki Disease Variations, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Not Beta Read, Vomiting, follow up fic, they're both really stupid Your Honor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:27:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28780479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CampionSayn/pseuds/CampionSayn
Summary: Sometimes Brooklyn feels like an idiot. Sometimes heknowshe's an idiot.
Relationships: Brooklyn/Lexington (Gargoyles)
Series: Goretober 2020 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949095
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	thés fleuris

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reddie_reeda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddie_reeda/gifts).



> A sequel to how I left things in my Goretober #10.

there was vomit in the hallways leading into the old rookery. there were weeds and blood in the vomit. there was no sign of Lexington and Brooklyn had been looking for him since one of the Avalon clan made a jeering comment.  
  
  
Brooklyn felt like he couldn't breathe, and he didn't like it, but he found some trace, and he wouldn't call on the others unless he had to.  
  
he was sometimes--often--an idiot, but not _stupid_.  
  
this sort of thing...it wasn't unheard of when and where they came from, but it was a delicate issue even in good times, and Brooklyn could only assume that if Lex was hiding it, that the issue ran deep and he wouldn't want to talk about it, and that would be made all the worse if others were brought into things. so soon, too soon; Lex rarely hid things and Brooklyn didn't want him to hurt any worse than he already was.  
  
  
upstairs in the old halls and the modern remaking of a place of royalty, goliath and Elisa were dancing to the tenor of violins playing from speakers in a cheap imitation of a live band; other elders and couples spinning around them. Broadway and Angela were enjoying being in the company of those Angela had known all her life. Hudson and Bronx were tired and happy, drinking ale and eating warmed meat in their turns.  
  
there was a feeling of claustrophobia there for the second in command, though. too many females asking him to dance with little to say and too forward in physical contact. too many males that saw him as too young, too old, too short, immature, uncertain with Brooklyn dancing as fast as he could both figuratively and physically just to keep up with them.  
  
he could not believe he had to wear what amounted to a Renaissance grey tunic and gold embroidered hazel sash for the occasion.   
  
....but it gave him an excuse to leave when one of the London clan got wine on him, so he supposed it was for the best.  
  
  
there was a rancid, hacking sound that got his mind back to the present, and he took off like the shot at the impact noise of something wet and disgusting hitting the cobblestones of the rookery floor that Xanatos had never bothered to replace, being that it stood as a glorified wine cellar once he purchased the castle.  
  
  
he saw Lex before he saw the puddle of bile, blood and bindweed, his feet skidding through it and spreading the smell that made his nostrils flare, but he paid the feeling and the disgust little mind as he bent beside his friend; his own figure so tense as he hunched over, talons digging into the wall as he continued to gag and cough up purple, pink and white flowers. all sullied in his blood.  
  
  
"oh, Lex, I'm so sorry," Brooklyn hissed in sympathy, ripping off his sash to try and wipe some of the blood and mucus away, one hand Lex's own to steady him and coming away reflecting blue. if it wasn't another branch of illness, he might have compared it to star shine. as it was, it just made him terrified.  
  
  
"don't be," Lex breathed, ragged with exhaustion, accepting the sash, "didn't want anyone to know--my fault it got this bad."  
  
"getting sick this way is _not_ your fault," Brooklyn stated, no argument to be made in his tone and no way for Lex to make a hasty retreat to lick his wounds like he'd been doing so often as of late, "though it might be our fault that it got this bad. we could have helped."  
  
a cascade of hazelnuts left in a torrent from Lexington's lips as he outright laughed at that. and he wasn't trying to be cruel, but it sure felt that way when Lex looked him straight in the eye and smiled, sad and terrified and-- _oh_.  
  
  
"...I'm really stupid."  
  
"Maybe."


End file.
